


From The Couch

by mansikka



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, POV Jace Wayland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12091521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Jace has an injury that Magnus is helping him recover from, meaning he has to stay at the loft. He observes the way Alec and Magnus behave with one another when they are alone.





	From The Couch

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing but silly fluff, nothing to see here at all :) x

“Coffee beans?”

Jace hears a cupboard door being opened and closed and an affirmative hum, then something that most definitely sounds like a kiss.

“Of course. Would you like the biscotti we got last time as well?”

“Sounds good,” Alec agrees, and oh, yes, Jace thinks to himself with a half-smile, that most definitely is the sound of someone kissing.  

His brother. The broody, constantly scowling, not-happy-unless-complaining brother he’s grown up with is a few feet before him in his kitchen, smooching his boyfriend as though he hasn’t got a care in the world—or remembers that Jace is currently staying with them.  

Talk about the world ending, he thinks with a huff to himself, laying his head back down on his pillow and wriggling to get comfortable.

Alec isn’t always miserable, Jace amends to himself then after a stab of guilt. He’s just, until Magnus came along at least, focused. One task at a time kind of guy, and no deviating from the path of duty. Anything that stepped off that path had his brow furrowing and his displeasure voiced for anyone and everyone to hear it, but since Magnus…

Since _Clary_ , actually, Jace amends to himself with a smile, then shakes his head with a self-deprecating groan.

There’s a loud sigh, a contented one that gets his attention next, and though he doesn’t really want to see it—though doesn’t really mind all that much if he _does_ —Jace imagines Alec and Magnus hugging in their kitchen, and is sure the image he’s painting for himself is a real one, judging by the soft, muffled words he’s hearing but can’t quite make out, imagining them pressed into necks and shoulders with closed eyes. He lets out another huff and asks his imagination to think of other things; not that he’s not ridiculously happy that Alec is really happy, of course.  

Alec laughs then, and it’s a joyous, free thing that curves Jace’s mouth up into a wider smile, leaving him half-wanting to hug Magnus for just how happy he’s made Alec. He knows it goes both ways, of course, has watched the way the warlock’s entire features shift and change like they’re softening and relaxing in Alec’s presence. And to think Alec never had any idea he could _do_ that to another person, Jace huffs to himself, his happy thoughts temporarily clouded over for just how little Alec has believed in himself in the past. Not for the duty thing, or working, getting things done on a mission, but in the personal things, the small ones; where he’s the one that finds the right words to reach Max when he’s in a mood yet doesn’t want mollycoddling, and also the one who picks up on everyone else’s change of mood just from the slightest change in their tone, or posture.  

Alec is good with people, Jace smiles to himself; even if he’s spent his life professing he has no time for them. Magnus has brought out that side of him, and Jace doesn’t think there’s enough ways to thank him for that.

“We’re out of bubble bath again,” Alec adds then, and Jace bites back a snort. Alec Lightwood, Head of the Institute, he-who-forever-scowls, is reminding Magnus to add _bubble bath_ to their growing grocery list; truly, the apocalypse really is about to strike.  

Because Jace’s mind is cruel to him, he then has a flash of Alec and Magnus in a bathtub full of those bubbles, and barely suppresses his protesting whine.

A low, inside-joke kind of giggle drifts over to him again from the kitchen, followed by, _well, of course, Alexander_ , and Jace wants to cover his ears, punch his pillow until it’s dimpled enough to hide his whole head in, so he can shut out whatever’s being said.

He should be taking notes for Izzy, Jace amends to himself for a moment, knowing she would love some ammunition to tease Alec with. But the problem is that both he and Izzy are just so ridiculously happy to see Alec being all the parts of himself, and thriving for them, that it’s hard to find the time to get much teasing in.

Teasing doesn’t really touch him all that much anymore though, Jace admits then, thinking of the two occasions he’s tried to get a rise out of Alec by mentioning something to do with Magnus, and it only resulting in a soft, secret smile.

Apparently Magnus is the only one that gets to embarrass him these days, Jace thinks, lifting his head to catch Alec coming into the living room with blush lighting up his cheeks, and his mouth curved up in a smile that he does _not_ want to know the reason for.

“Jace?” Magnus calls, pulling his attention from his study of Alec over by some shelves pondering their contents looking deep in thought. “What would you like for dinner this evening?”

Jace goes to sit up a little, but Magnus is already closer, shushing him into not moving, rearranging the blanket that’s covering him and studying his face.

“Uh…”

“Anything you want,” Magnus adds with a smile, snapping his fingers and conjuring magic from his fingertips, undulating it over Jace’s torso until the ache in the wound on his chest eases up a little, “it would be good to see you having a returned appetite,”

“Yeah, that’s a sure-fire way of knowing Jace is better,” Alec agrees as he comes to stand beside Magnus, smiling down at Jace for a second, then raising a small jar to push into Magnus’ hand, and adding, “you’re getting low on this. You told me to remind you,”

“I did,” Magnus agrees, turning and kissing him in thanks, oblivious to the way Jace is grinning up at them both.

 _Fangirling_ , he thinks Simon called it, and mocks himself for both the idea of himself fangirling over anything, and thinking of Simon willingly in any moment, and clears his throat. Which doesn’t really interrupt their kiss, but does bring it to an end, leaving Magnus and Alec smiling at each other so pleased, it’s almost indecent.  

Maybe it wasn’t _fangirling_ , Jace thinks absently then as he watches them, maybe it was something to do with a _boat_. _Sailing_ , or something.

“We went to this place once,” Alec says, his eyes on Magnus’ for another second before he drags them away to look at Jace, “pizza place. Supposed to be there looking for a vamp nest in the area, but _someone_ saw the sign for an all-you-can-eat menu, and decided he needed to eat first,”

“It was good pizza,” Jace argues, though his stomach does give a feeble little quiver at just the memory of how many slices he’d forced himself to eat that day. Izzy had looked at him in utter disgust, and Alec’s expression was torn between prideful and ‘this better not mess up the mission’, which, in fairness, is the expression Jace is more used to seeing him have. Not that adoring, happy-go-lucky, relaxed one he’s apparently permanently wearing of late.  

He much prefers this one, Jace amends to himself, then realizes they’re both staring down at him waiting for an answer. “Actually, pizza sounds good,”

“Not… too much pizza,” Magnus amends in concern, “you are still recovering. I’ve just got you almost-whole again; I don’t want you to be undoing all my good work by making yourself sick,”

Jace smiles then, thanking Magnus under his breath once again for being so welcoming of him when he’d been carried to the loft with a seeping wound from an unidentified demon attack. He’s doing better, not hallucinating anymore, and his strength is returning, but aside from being helped from their spare room and over to the couch the last couple of mornings, as well as a few embarrassing trips to the bathroom, he’s not moved much at all.

He thinks Magnus must have put up silencing charms for his and Alec’s bedroom since the last time he stayed here, because he _knows_ from the look on their faces exactly what they’ve been doing behind that closed door. And his parabatai rune is just pulsing contentedness, so it’s not difficult to conjure a picture Jace really doesn’t want to be conjuring.

He shudders, just enough to have Magnus’ hand flinching towards him in alarm, before he waves it away dismissively.

“So,” Magnus says, narrowing his eyes a little as though his patient is displeasing him, “anything else we need?”

“You’re going _shopping_ ,” Jace says, aware his voice comes out a little dumb. The idea of the High Warlock of Brooklyn doing something as, well, _mundane_ , as grocery shopping, is possibly the strangest image his mind has conjured for him yet. He pictures Magnus pushing a cart around one of those Target stores, lazily summoning things from the shelves around him to fill it as he passes, and wonders if there’s anything residual from the demon lingering through him to be imagining such things. Then takes in the easy way that Alec and Magnus seem to curve around each other even though they’re not stood exactly side by side, and discounts the idea. These two are just domestic, loved-up _saps_ , Jace decides, _they're_ doing this to him; just about refraining from rolling his eyes, but not holding back the way he’s smiling.

“But of course,” Magnus replies with a dismissive wave, “sometimes it is the simplest joy to indulge in the act of just… shopping. Meandering. Seeing what the world has to offer,”

“He sends stuff back here when he’s bought too much,” Alec adds, unaware, probably, of just how fondly he’s looking at Magnus as he speaks, “last time he went to Paris to get this jacket he just _had to_ _have_ —”

Jace’s brain shorts out. Did Alec… did Alec really just impersonate Magnus, complete with accent and flourishing fingers and all, with Magnus grinning back at him like this is a regular occurrence?  

“—I got out the shower to this mound of bags appearing, toppling over one another all over the couch. By the time Mags arrived, they were spilling to the floor, and I had to rescue this bottle of wine that was about to smash,” Alec finishes, smiling impossibly happy at the memory.

“Perhaps I… got carried away,” Magnus admits, his hand up to his ear in the nervous, embarrassed habit he has that Jace is convinced he doesn’t know he’s doing. And by the way, did Alec just call him _Mags_?

He must still be hallucinating, Jace thinks to himself, more certain about it, discreetly squeezing his hand down by his side to make sure he isn’t dreaming, since an actual pinch would draw attention to the movement of his hands, and he doesn't want to worry them.

“And besides,” Magnus adds, stepping closer and pressing a hand on Alec’s chest for a moment, “that shirt I bought you was simply divine with the jeans you wore to that party we attended,”

There’s a look that passes between them, then, that Jace is convinced means _I didn’t stay in my clothes for long, though, did I Magnus?_ And honestly, he’s sick, he’s recovering; surely they could show some compassion, some decency, perhaps, stop assaulting his senses with all this cute, bordering on too-much-information laid-back attitude they’ve got going on.

Not that he objects, Jace amends to himself with a smile, it’s just that Magnus and Alec outside the loft is quite a different thing to witness than the one when they’re comfortable in their own home. In fact, Jace amends, at the Institute it's an entirely different flavor of Magnus and Alec than the other one he’s used to seeing when they don’t have to be professional. There’s softness there as well, endless affection in discreet touches and secret smiles, of course, but this? An entire other world, Jace thinks, wanting to laugh, but also wanting to see more of it. Not _all_ parts of it, though, obviously, he amends, taking in the way they’re now looking at each other that’s saying if they were home alone—

“Anyway,” Alec says then, reaching out to squeeze Magnus’ shoulder, “you said you wanted to stop by that store you said closes in an hour,”

“I do,” Magnus replies, reaching out and patting his cheek, “I should get going. Are you sure there is nothing else either of you need?”

Magnus and Alec turn as one to look at Jace, waiting until he shakes his head to say he doesn’t, and then back to one another, with Alec gripping him lightly at the waist and pulling him in with a resounding _nope_.

“Okay,” Magnus agrees, nuzzling against him, completely unconcerned that their audience is laid out prone before them actually having palpitations for just how easy and open they’re being, “I’ll be back soon,”

“Okay,” Alec smiles, ducking and pressing a kiss to his cheek, then releasing him, turning to watch Magnus as he saunters out the apartment and not turning back to Jace until the door closes.

His smile’s still plastered there all over his face, Jace thinks, tensing for the moment the old Alec wins out and his expression drops to one of embarrassment for letting Jace see him like this.  

It doesn’t. Alec just steps closer, tilts his head to study him in thought for a moment, then turns away again, appearing moments later with the tea Jace had heard him preparing before that grocery list started.

“Magnus says this tea should help,” he announces, pouring them both a cup from an ornate tea pot and setting Jace’s cup down on the small table Magnus has pulled closer to him so Jace doesn’t have to move too much. “It tastes pretty good,”

“Oh yeah?” Jace asks, clinging on to Alec’s arms as he pulls himself upright to sit back against the couch, wincing and griping to himself for a moment before he nods for Alec to release him. “Never thought I’d see the day when you’d drink anything but coffee,”

Alec shrugs, unbothered, then sits and wriggles back to get comfortable on his arm chair, the picture of content in himself. He idly grabs a file he's brought home to work on, glances over its title, then tosses it on to the coffee table to deal with later. 

“Thanks… for letting me stay here,” Jace says after studying Alec for a couple of seconds, a warmth pooling in his chest—not for the after effects of his demon attack, but for seeing his brother so utterly, thoroughly happy.

“Where else would you stay?” Alec snorts, rolling his eyes in an echo of his former self that doesn’t have time for any words that border on stupid. “It’s easier for Magnus to keep an eye on you—use his magic—if you’re here, than back at the Institute,”

Which is true, Jace agrees. Only, this is the second time he’s stayed at the loft; the first time it was Magnus’ only, and his and Alec’s relationship was new, and Jace hadn’t thought too much about what it was to be getting in their way. This second stay makes him feel a little like he’s intruding on their home, and it sits a little heavy on him.  

Alec, as always, is reading his mind. “And you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Magnus’ll raise all kinds of hell if you try and leave before you recover. You should’ve heard all the things he threatened Luke with when he tried to leave all that time ago when he thought it was too soon, and that was… we were all so different back then,”

“Not… not so different,” Jace amends, because the essence of who they all are is still prominent. They’re still the same people they’ve always been, with more or less the same views and outlooks, and ways of dealing with all they experience. Only now, there’s love and affection that underwrites so much of it, so much of all they do; laced with those emotions he’s always been taught will make a person weak.

Love hasn’t made Alec weak, Jace thinks then, his heart soaring for just how truly, honestly happy and content within himself _this_ Alec is. It’s a gift to see him so open, and relaxed.  

“Different in good ways,” Alec amends with a shrug, taking a sip of his tea and dropping his head back against the armchair, closing his eyes as his absent fingers draw patterns on the chair’s arm, and a slight unconscious smile curves up his lips.  

Jace doesn’t want to know what he’s thinking about. But since his entire expression screams _Magnus_ , he’s got a fairly good idea. It’s love, happiness, and home.

 


End file.
